A Conversation about Medication

And a link to zoom with me on this topic!

Beautiful community, I invite you to a ‘chat with me’ next Wednesday via Zoom so we can talk about our journey to medication with our son. A decision we did not take lightly. (REGISTER BELOW)

Like me, I know many of you are terrified to even start the conversation with your spouse, your child’s doctor, etc. So, let’s talk in a safe space and ask questions. I am in no way a doctor or an expert and will not give out medical advice. But I will gladly share our journey and experiences.

• Does my child need medication?

• Is medication even an option?

• Am I giving up on them by medicating?

• Will people judge me for medicating?

• Will medication harm my child?

If this is your first time zooming with me…don’t worry. It’s easy and enjoyable. Click the link at the bottom of the page to register. (Yes, you need to be a paid subscriber.) I will send you a zoom link the night before. Hop on the scheduled time. I will share a few stories and then you can ask questions and/or we can just chat. Right now, there are 20 slots. Per the usual, I will open up more times if needed.

An excerpt from my book Forever Boy about medications:

I couldn’t believe our life had come to this. We were living in survival mode, far from thriving. It felt like we were walking on eggshells, which is no way to live. And we had been doing it for quite some time. I never knew about this part of autism before it happened to us. 

I am a true believer that everything happens for a reason. It’s cliché, I know. But the universe has a way of giving us gentle nudges. That evening, my mother-in-law saw Cooper in rare form for the first time. I knew people didn’t believe us when we told them about the dangerous, even scary, sides of disability. They probably thought we were exaggerating or embellishing. We weren’t. As we sat there in her kitchen, I held my son’s arms to keep him from hitting his own head in frustration. I rocked back and forth with him. I whispered in his ear. He was anxious about paper and about the Wi-Fi and about going home. 

Jamie was outside with our other two boys, and I was in the ring with Cooper. And for the first time I said the words out loud…

‘I don’t think I can do this anymore, Diane. I think I give up.’  

My mother-in-law, a retired nurse, said, ‘Kate, look at him. He doesn’t feel good. You have to look at medicating. His brain hurts. He hurts. No one wants to feel like that. If he was a diabetic, you would give him insulin. This is no different.’ 

At this point in Cooper’s life, I will admit medicating had never crossed my mind. I didn’t even know what they would medicate him for. I didn’t want to drug my child. I didn’t want him to be a zombie. I had always been against medicating. There is a stigma around it. A shame even. Parents didn’t openly talk about this sort of thing. To be honest, I was scared to even ask questions for fear for being judged. But she was right. It was like a lightbulb moment for me. Cooper didn’t feel well. I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen my son happy or smile or laugh. 

And to be clear, I would never judge another parent for medicating their child. For me, though, it felt like giving up. It felt like admitting defeat. And failing as a parent. I would soon learn that medications can be a wonderful tool to add to your toolbox. 

When I spoke with the people in our life about it, I was met with mixed feelings. 

‘Don’t drug your child!’ ‘Medications can be life changing!’ ‘He’ll be like a zombie.’ ‘I wish we would have started our child on meds years ago.’ 

I heard stories of children suddenly being able to focus, sleep, even interact in the community. The children they described after being on medications seemed unattainable to me. I couldn’t even imagine sitting with Cooper. Or going to a restaurant. Or even communicating back and forth. 

The pros and cons weighed on my heart, but I found so much hope in the possible good that could come. This felt like our last option.